


Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.

by DeathLife97



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3978541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathLife97/pseuds/DeathLife97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A character study I did for philosophy class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I got to live the dream and write fanfiction for my philosophy class. Yay! Hopefully this turns out ok. Its so weird not writing a romance story...

If you had told Steve Rogers that he would have become an American icon when he was a kid, he probably would’ve ran to his mom crying. Not in joy, but in despair. Steve Rogers knew from a tender age that his slight build and horrible immune system would prevent him from doing a lot of things that other kids his age could do no problem. But as he grew older, Steve only grew more determined to prove himself. And what better way to prove himself than by serving his country? Unlike most of the men who went to war, he didn’t want to kill anyone. But Steve also knew that compromises would have to be made in order to stop those who had hurt innocent people. He still remembered the look Erskine gave him when the scientist saw him for the first time. “So, you want to kill some Nazi bastards?” Erskine had asked him, looking him up and down like he was some undiscovered creature.

 Steve had shrugged, feeling skin move across bone. “I don’t want to kill anyone.I don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they come from.” He hadn’t understood at the time why that impressed Erskine so much. He was just being honest, and Steve’s mom had always taught him to fight for what he believed in, no matter what others said. The next thing Steve knew Erskine was stamping his folder, the **1A** making his already-impaired heart skip a beat. _I’m going overseas. I can help_ , he had thought in excitement. He was being honest when he told Erskine that he really didn’t want to kill anyone. He just wanted to help others, not because they couldn’t, but because it was the right thing to do. If he didn’t, then whose standard would he live by? The society that said he couldn’t help because of his physicality.

The first thing he did the next morning (the day before he left for camp) was to go tell his mom the news. Steve stopped by this little flower shop on 29th to pick up some flowers for her (white asters were always her favorite), Mrs. Gold letting him off a few cents cheap today. He thanked her profusely before walking over to the cemetery, waving to the caretaker before following the familiar path to his mother’s gravestone. Steve kneeled next to the familiar marker, taking out the dead daisies before placing the asters there. “Hey, Mom,” Steve said, “you’ll never guess what happened. They accepted me! I know that if you were here right now, you’d probably be worried about me. But I promise you I’ll come back from this. I just want to make you and Pop proud. I just... I want to show the world that there are people out there like me. People who don’t judge easily and care about others despite their ‘flaws’. And I want to be the kind of person I needed growing up. I wanna be someone a kid like me can look up to as their hero.” Steve huffs out a puff of air, careful of his asthma. He looks up at the sky before looking back to his Ma, wondering if she could actually hear him. He smiled at the stone, picturing her face gleaming with pride, and Steve could practically feel her arms around him in a hug. “I love ya, Ma. Never forget that.” With that, he walked back to his apartment to pack.

* * *

Steve remembered when he first met Bucky. He was six and had gotten into a fight with one of the neighbor kids who was picking on a girl. Steve had had the last straw when the kid grabbed her doll and threw it in the street. He’d gotten several cuts and bruises before Bucky intervened. “Back off my sister!” Steve turned his head to see a small boy with dirty black hair and bright blue eyes. After the other kid had given the bullies a run for their money, he and his sister Rebecca took him upstairs to their mother, who patched him up before having her son walk Steve home. After they were halfway there, Steve finally got a name from the other kid. “I’m James, but most people call me Bucky. What’s your name?”

Steve remembered looking at the ground in embarrassment.. “I’m Steve,” he told Bucky.

“Cool name. Wanna be friends?”

Steve had looked up at Bucky, shocked. Most people didn’t have the patience for someone as sickly as him. “Why would ya wanna be friends with a kid like me? You could be friends with anyone!”

Bucky had shrugged his shoulders before giving Steve a big smile, one of his front teeth missing. “Yeah, but I don’t wanna be friends with _those_ guys. They’re bullies! I like you!”

Steve had smiled at Bucky. “Ok, friends.” They shook on it, laughing as Bucky helped Steve limp home. Even as the years passed, Steve always had this nagging feeling in the back of his mind, just waiting for Bucky to ditch him. But he never did. Not even as he got handsomer by the day with dames flocking towards him by the droves while everyone avoided Steve like the plague. Well, everyone except Bucky. One day he was tired of all the constant waiting, so he confronted Bucky. They were in their mid-teens now, Bucky seventeen and Steve having just turned sixteen.

Bucky had seemed surprised by Steve’s accusations before he lightly smacked his friend upside the head. Steve winced slightly, rubbing the back of his head gently. “You listen here, Rogers,” Bucky told him, looking righteously pissed, “I am _never_ gonna leave ya. I’m with ya ‘til the end of the line, ya hear me?”

Steve nodded before smiling at his only friend, his _best friend_. “‘Til the end of the line,” he repeated, and he never doubted the bond of brothers and friends he and Bucky shared after that.

* * *

Even when he woke up in a strange new place and time, Steve never forgot who he was. After Thor had taken Loki back to Asgard and he had made his peace with Stark, he took his SHIELD-confiscated motorcycle to the nearest flower shop, but a dozen red roses. He knew he was being followed by the others, but he let them pretend that he hadn’t caught onto them yet. When Steve pulled up next to the cemetery, he leaned against his bike as he waited for the others to get out of their cars. All of them looked slightly sheepish, with the exception of Romanov. Steve didn’t say a word, only grabbing the flowers before walking the path to the one place he needed to be right at this moment. The others followed him silently until he stopped in front of Sarah Rogers’ grave. It looked like it needed some maintenance, the stone chipping at an alarming rate. Steve calmly put the flowers where they needed to be, making a note to talk to the person who ran this place to check this out. He sat down in front of the maker before he began talking. “Hey Ma. I know its been a while, and I’m sorry for that. Didn’t mean to strand you here without knowing what actually happened to me, but it's been pretty hectic since I last talked to you. I did it. I became the hero kids could look up to. I made you proud, right? I hope I did. I miss you and Pop. And Bucky too. God knows I miss my friend.” Steve laughed then, a self-deprecating laugh. “I finally met a girl,” he said in a soft voice, “After all that time and I finally met the girl of my dreams only to have her taken away from me because I needed to do the right thing. Sometimes I wonder if this was all worth it. Being Captain America. But I see what the world has become in my absence, and I think that maybe, just maybe, the world could use someone old-fashioned like me.” He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder, surprised to see it belonged to Stark. The genius gave his shoulder a squeeze before letting go, offering him a hand. Steve took it after a quick hesitation, surprised that Stark could pull the super soldier to his feet. Steve looked back at the stone once more. “I did it, Ma. I finally found a family.” With those words, he walked away from the cemetery, his  ~~teammates~~ family following behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> The different philosophies Steve Rogers/Captain America represents:
> 
> -Free will: Lives by his own standards and no one elses.  
> -Ethics: “I don't like bullies; I don't care where they come from.” With these words said, he changed how we see superheroes. Normally they want revenge along with justice, but never before had they wanted to do the right thing because they could, and that makes Steve Rogers stand above all others.  
> -Virtue friendship: Represents this philosophy with his friendship with Bucky Barnes. Even though they have both changed during the war, they still had this strong bond that tied them both together.  
> -Love (Agape): Even though he sees the world’s darkness, he also treats people like they are people, loving them despite their flaws.


End file.
